The shaman’s eyes widened in shock as he hadn’t expected such a sudden attack, but...
My blade crashed against a sudden shimmer of mana—the barrier flared to life at the last second, rippling like a pool of molten glass. Sparks flew in every direction, bouncing off my blade and scattering into the air like fireflies.
It was the same magic shield the shaman had used earlier to cushion his fall.
I launched a flurry of attacks—stab, slash, a twist of the wrist into a heavy overhead thrust—but no matter how I angled the blade, the shield held firm, not a single crack, not even a dent, each strike echoing with a dull thud that mocked my effort.
On the sixth strike, the barrier didn’t just absorb—it retaliated, pulsing with a burst of stored energy, and the force of my own attack came hurtling back at me.
I stumbled a couple of steps before regaining my balance, and when I came to a stop, I narrowed my eyes.
The barrier had a rebound effect?
The shaman regained his composure, spinning his staff with practiced ease before pointing it at me, a trio of fireballs exploding from the tip.
I blinked away before they hit—then reappeared behind the shaman and slashed. But the shield appeared again, absorbing the blow.
The goblin’s face twisted in panic, and he snarled, firing off another fireball, but I blinked out of range, appearing in the distance.
Nearby, the goblin soldiers froze, their blades drawn but unsure of whom or what to strike, confusion writ across their green faces as they stared wide-eyed at the strange dance unfolding between the shaman and the enemy.
But then the shaman goblin yelled, "What are you doing?! Attack him!"
And that snapped them out of their stupor.
They charged, with snarls, and I glanced at them calmly.
There were more than a dozen: a few archers, many with crude rusted blades, one bulky goblin wielding a greatsword, and two direwolves.
A scary number for a lone goblin.
But I wasn’t intimidated.
Dealing with them would be a piece of cake.
An arrow flew toward me from the rear, but I used [warp], appearing behind the archer, then I grabbed him and blinked again, taking him with me to a nearby tree branch, high above the chaos and hidden from the others.
The goblins below, along with the shaman looking around in confusion.
As soon as I reappeared with the goblin shaman, I slit the archer’s throat with Gravefang, a spray of blood following, but before the body could fall to the ground, I used [Swap].
And in an instant, the corpse vanished—replaced by a wide-eyed, living goblin from below, who barely had time to scream before his throat was cut like the first.
Exchanging the kill before it dropped with another goblin, then slashing its neck.
I didn’t move from my spot. I stood still, repeating the pattern as fast as possible.
Kill. Swap. Kill. Swap.
Gravefang struck before the goblins could register what was happening. My hands were drenched, but I kept going—faster, smoother, more precise with every motion.
The goblins below were even more confused now as to what was happening, as those around dropped without warning, clutching their necks, before collapsing in twitching heaps.
Because each goblin was replaced the moment they vanished, it became nearly impossible for the others to track what was happening. One second, their comrade was there, alive, and the next, they were on the ground, twitching in a growing pool of blood.
The uncertainty rippled through the ranks, and panic took hold.
But one person wasn’t fooled.
The shaman caught on to my position.
His sharp eyes caught the faint drip-drip of blood falling from a tree canopy, and immediately he snapped his staff upward and launched a fireball at my perch with no hesitation.
I blinked away just in time, but the goblin I was holding at the time wasn’t so lucky.
The blast struck him full on, blowing him apart.
I sighed disappointedly.
I could have continued this and pretty much killed the goblin soldiers, leaving only the shaman. Now I had to get my hands dirty.
I reappeared below this time in front of the bulky goblin, who was the only goblin with a greatsword.
As soon as it saw me, it roared and swung with full force, but I swapped places with a nearby soldier just as the brute’s greatsword came crashing down. The blade cleaved through the unfortunate goblin with a sickening CRUNCH, splitting him clean from shoulder to hip in a spray of blood and bone.
Out of the corner of my eye,
The brute from earlier let out a confused snarl, glancing down at the goblin he’d just sliced in half. Then his head snapped up and he saw me—and that was all it took.
With a roar, he charged like a boulder, and at the same time, I spotted a goblin archer draw his bow and fire an arrow, which sliced through the air heading straight toward me.
I swapped again—this time with the charging brute just before the arrow landed—and the brute reappeared where I was taking the arrow to his chest.
The goblin screamed in pain, and I grinned
But a fireball came from the shaman once again, heading towards me, and once I swapped places with the bulky goblin once more, his body took the brunt of the explosion.
Then came the heat. Another fireball from the shaman, racing toward me like a meteor on a mission. Once again, I swapped right back with the brute.
Poor guy barely had time to blink before the fireball slammed into him.
When the smoke cleared, he was dead.
And I swear I heard the shaman yell: Fuck!!
Might’ve been my imagination... but I wouldn’t put it past him. It sounded angry enough to learn a new language.
More goblins came rushing in, but I blinked away and popped behind the archer from earlier before driving Gravefang into its spine.
Then another fireball soared toward me from the shaman, but I swapped with one of the charging grunts, who took the fireball full in the chest and exploded, the shockwave force sending three goblins around it flying, dirt and ash spiraling into the air
I appeared a few paces from the shaman, close enough to see the panic flare in his eyes.